


honeymoon suite

by elisela



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Soft Eddie Diaz, it's thirsting after Eddie Diaz hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: He should have known the plan was doomed to fail, especially once Eddie had looked at him and said “Buck, this is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in,” and had slid his hand into Buck’s back pocket without the slightest hesitation, pressed so close to his side as they strolled up the hotel reception and announced they were on their honeymoon that daylight could not be seen between them.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 458





	honeymoon suite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madamewriterofwrongs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamewriterofwrongs/gifts), [awashleyno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awashleyno/gifts).



> Please allow me to atone for [you have (1) missed call](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139305/chapters/61136869). 
> 
> CJ gave me the prompt "this is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in," and then Ash went and said the magic words: _buff dad Eddie in a suit_ and ... well.

He should have known the plan was doomed to fail, especially once Eddie had looked at him and said “Buck, this is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in,” and had slid his hand into Buck’s back pocket without the slightest hesitation, pressed so close to his side as they strolled up the hotel reception and announced they were on their honeymoon that daylight could not be seen between them.

Oh, the plan had worked wonderfully—a few indulgent smiles aimed at each other, Eddie’s appraising look sweeping over his body and sinful grin at the mention of a honeymoon suite, and the very, _very_ real flush that had found its way onto Buck’s face when Eddie had whispered, loudly, “I can’t wait to get you in that room, baby,”—and they’re standing in the doorway to their suite, eyes focused on the large balcony and open ocean beyond.

Eddie’s arm is still around his waist.

The plan had worked wonderfully, but Buck—Buck is so fucking screwed.

Eddie whistles beside him and Buck nods along, taking in the view. It’s nice, much nicer than the double room they had booked for the long weekend for Maddie and Chim’s more formal wedding (Buck was no longer allowed to call it her second wedding, even though he insists it’s the right term—she and Chim had gotten married at the courthouse while she was pregnant with Joy, and technically, this celebration is the second), but when Buck had been daydreaming about the jacuzzi tub and large balcony to lay around on, he had conveniently forgotten that they were exchanging two double beds for one very big one. They’ve slept in the same bed before; he’s crashed in Eddie’s more times than he can count for various reasons, most of them having to do with Christopher, and Eddie’s spent the night in his after a few drinks. It’s not unusual, it’s something he wouldn’t even think twice about at home anymore, but here in the doorway of a _honeymoon suite_ , he thinks he’s probably the biggest idiot on the planet if he thought he could get through a weekend with this type of proximity, this intimacy.

Eddie’s arm is still around his waist.

It’s the only thing he can think about, the perfect weight of it, the way Eddie’s palm rests just above his belt, fingers curved around his hip with enough pressure that he feels them in a way that’s achingly comforting. And just as he’s getting used to it, just as he’s relaxing into the feeling of Eddie’s affection, as he gives himself a moment to pretend and feel out his future, Eddie withdraws his arm enough to rest his hand on the small of Buck’s back and propel him forward. 

“We are gonna get some use out of that,” Eddie says, and Buck, who had been eyeing the bed, wills his body not to react to the image that goes through his mind, of Eddie below him, sweat matting down his hair and the fading sun casting his skin in a golden light, writhing under Buck’s attention, hands fisted into Buck’s hair and on his shoulder as he takes Eddie into his mouth, because Eddie is definitely looking at the balcony and he is clearly not seeing the possibilities that Buck is.

Buck clears his throat and lets the scene in his head die out, replaces it with something more tame, something infinitely more in the realm of possibility, like waking up to Eddie’s arm slung around his waist and Eddie’s embarrassed smile when he opens his eyes. “We only have an hour to get to the restaurant,” he says. “You want the first shower?”

Eddie’s hand falls away from his back and Buck takes a moment to mourn the loss. He unpacks for both of them while the water runs and Eddie’s terrible singing voice floats over to him, chuckling softly as he hangs their suits and stashes everything else in drawers, inspects the shoes he polished the night before at Eddie’s to make sure they hadn’t been scuffed up on the flight over. 

He tries not to look when Eddie comes out of the shower, towel slipping around his hips, held up by a careless hand, but he doesn’t have to look to know the slight definition of his abs, his broader waist, filled out by the hours of work Buck has made him put into weight training during their downtime at the station. It’s that thought that carries him into the shower and holds his attention while sticks his head under the spray and wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly to the idea of sinking down on his knees and getting his hands on Eddie’s hips, fitting his thumbs against hip bones, Eddie’s hands on the back of his head and neck while he thrusts into Buck’s mouth. He bites his tongue to muffle the choked off sound of his orgasm, washes quickly and tells himself once again that he’s going to stop jerking off to his best friend like a creep.

“That’s a new suit,” he says as soon as he steps out of the room and gets a look at Eddie, standing near the mirror as he fits cufflinks onto his unbuttoned shirt. _Fuck_ , Eddie looks good. Eddie’s always looked good, but now Eddie looks _good_ , looks like he could withstand Buck tossing him around a little as he fucked him, like he could give it back as good as he got it. 

Buck’s always been attracted to him, from the day he stepped into the 118 and gave Buck his first glimpse of chiseled abs and slim hips, but if he had thought Eddie was attractive _then_ —Eddie has nothing on himself from that day. He’s thicker all around, filled out, his strength more obvious now, not able to be hidden behind button downs and navy blue slacks. Buck’s eyes trace his broad shoulders and the collarbones that sometimes peek out from his shirt, desperate to run his tongue over them, to bite down on Eddie’s shoulders as they fall into bed, to fit his hands around defined biceps and pin Eddie down. The thin undershirt does nothing to hide his pecs from Buck’s view, the drape of his white button down calls attention to the straight line of his hips, so different from the curve Buck had seen the first time Eddie was shirtless.

He can’t stop himself, feels like he’s stuck in the doorway of the bathroom, taking in Eddie’s thick thighs, flicking his gaze up to the steady, capable hands that have stilled near Eddie’s stomach, shirt buttons forgotten as Eddie looks at Buck.

Buck, who is not clearly not hiding anything right now.

Fuck.

“You like it?” Eddie says, quietly, far too quietly and hesitantly for someone who can see what’s written on Buck’s face, all the love and longing he holds for Eddie put on display. 

Maybe Buck had been better about hiding how he felt than he thought, but the way Eddie is looking at him—unsure, doubtful, two emotions that Buck _never_ wants him to feel when it comes to knowing just what sort of love Buck holds for him, platonic or otherwise—makes him cross the room, gently move Eddie’s hands out of the way and reach for his shirt, buttoning it up carefully. “You look really good, Eds,” he says softly, slipping the last button through and letting his hands slide up to Eddie’s shoulders, one around the back of his neck, finally looking at Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, like he can’t believe what’s happening; his hands come up, hold onto Buck’s waist and Buck steps closer and tilts his forehead down at Eddie’s touch against his bare skin, resting it against Eddie’s. “This—I wasn’t expecting this,” he says, breath ghosting over Buck’s lips. 

“It is our honeymoon,” Buck says, and Eddie huffs a breath out of his nose, shaking his head gently. “I should be able to kiss a guy on my honeymoon, shouldn’t I?”

“You could have kissed me anytime,” Eddie says—

So Buck does.


End file.
